But let's anchor ourselves back to the present: Yule is drawing to a close. Before the inevitable return to routine, I want to take a moment to share the quiet observations, the small joys, and the reflections that made up my week before looking at the year ahead.
2. I need more social, getting out and having a bit of fun.
In thirty years, I’ve never had a job that gives me the entire festive period off, and honestly, I’ve never had a problem with that. This year, the return for my two shifts arrived as expected. As with most roles, some days are better than others, and the best ones are usually when it’s quiet in the 'office'. Because I don’t often write about my work, I haven’t previously mentioned my best friend there; she’s worked alongside me for about nine years now, and we make quite a team. 'Keeks' is a wonderful friend, and we have that rare understanding of exactly how the other works. For the shifts I worked this week, it was just the two of us in. With half the team on rest days and the others on leave, we were at minimum staffing—but at least we got to enjoy the quiet at our own pace.
Working through the festive period doesn't mean the celebrations are over; for me, work is simply a pause. We continued to eat, drink, and be merry—purposefully ignoring the outside world for twelve whole days. Now, however, we are in the process of winding it all down. Soon the decorations will be packed away and our home will revert to its familiar self. As we return to our own particular 'normal', we still have a long winter ahead of us. But that is exactly what Yule and Christmas are for: to remind us that even through the darkest of times, we always have friends and family to depend on.
We had no grand plans to celebrate the passing of the year, so after I returned from work, we ate and settled down in front of the TV. I sat with Morticia, while our daughter, Rags, was there with her boyfriend, Liam. Little Atreus, our grandson, was in the middle of it all as we watched the usual New Year’s Eve telly. We also spent some time on a video call with our other daughter, Harley, and her husband, Josh, so they could be part of the evening too. As midnight approached, we each gathered our drinks and stood, waiting tentatively for that familiar chime. Then, as Big Ben struck the hour and the fireworks erupted, it was done—2025 was consigned to history, and 2026 had begun.
One tradition I always uphold on New Year’s night is lighting a fire to say a few private words to the gods and spirits. It was a bit of a challenge to get started this time—the biting cold made the wood stubborn to catch—but there is something grounding about tending a flame in the dark. It felt like the right way to settle into the year ahead.
On New Year’s Day, we feast for a final time with a meal akin to the grand spread of Christmas Day. It is our way of closing the season with intention—performing a ritual to honour those we lost in the previous year and to whisper our promises to the new one.
I’ve never been particularly keen on the term 'resolution'; it feels so final and, well, resolute. I much prefer 'goal'. We should be aiming for progress rather than perfection—focusing on achievement without the weight of promises or judgement. So, with that in mind, it’s time to review how I got on with last year’s goals:
1. Cycling for fun needs to happen.
As many of you know, my cycling year didn’t end quite as planned. In fact, it came to a very abrupt halt on the 5th of November when I was hit by a car. While I’d set a goal to get out on more leisure rides this year, it didn't quite materialise. Instead, it was the daily commute that kept my wheels turning—and I still count that as a win because it’s time spent doing something I love.
I was well on course to beat last year’s total, but even with two months missing from the calendar, I’m proud of the progress. After all, any time in the saddle is a victory.
Time hasn’t been my friend and money hasn't been much of a companion lately, which has left my social life feeling a little dry. However, we did manage three trips to Wales, where we certainly made up for it. Those escapes provided the perfect antidote to a quiet year at home.
3. I want to take time and do more rituals, expanding my spiritual side.
For a long time, my spirituality was a private matter, kept strictly out of sight. Now, I’m at a point in my life where I’m happy to let that side of me breathe, regardless of outside opinion. It’s been a year of performing more rituals and really delving into my inner self. I’ve even added a small outdoor altar to the mix to complement the one I have indoors—I’ve affectionately named it 'The Henge'.
So, it’s time to set this year’s goals. No promises, no pressure—just a direction to head in:
1. Prioritise the 'Outdoors': Whether it’s walking the dog, riding the bike for pure fun, or just finding a quiet moment in the fresh air—I need to just get out more.
2. Reconnect: I want to socialise more this year. That means popping to the pub, meeting up with friends, and making time for those important date nights.
3. Sanctuary at Home: My goal is to continue making our home an enjoyable, relaxing space—a true retreat from the world.
The decorations may be coming down, but the light we’ve gathered over these twelve days stays with us. Here’s to a year of steady pedalling, deeper rituals, and finding the joy in the small, everyday wins.
My spiritual side and my creative side are two sides of the same coin. If you enjoyed hearing about 'The Henge' and my Yule rituals, you'll find those same Norse echoes in my webcomic, Northman.
Read the latest chapter here: northman.kirt.me.uk
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Those are wonderful goals for 2026. I like the motto "Progress Not Perfection" as a way of looking at goals and life. Happy New Year to you and your family! Wishing you peace, prosperity, happiness and good health!
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